


Rough Sketches

by waxbirds



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxbirds/pseuds/waxbirds
Summary: "May I request a Jon R fic where reader catches him sketching her in a coffeeshop. Like it starts off with her accidentally making eye contact with him, but then she notices he keeps looking at her and she’s like “should this be flattering or do I have something on my face" request





	Rough Sketches

There were days that you didn’t feel like running through the Starbucks on the corner by your apartment. The coffee was overpriced, it was burned, and the place was always way too busy. One too many times, you ended up coming close to being late for the train you had to take because of the line. On your day off, you decided you wanted to explore other places to try and find somewhere good to spend your money instead. Armed with a book, your wallet, and a pair of headphones, you wandered the neighborhood, walking by all the places Yelp had recommended for you when you searched for a new coffee shop. The first two were closed (one permanently, and one for the weekend) but you felt instantly like you struck gold with the third when you entered it. There were plush seats everywhere for you to sit on, a shelf full of books, and baked goods twice the size of what you were used to finding in a Starbucks for half the price.

Yeah, you’d certainly struck gold.

“What can I get for you?” asked the woman at the counter as you approached, smiling brightly at you, and you couldn’t help but mirror it on your own face.

“Just a decaf with cream and sugar,” you told her, looking towards the baked goods. After a moment, while she was ringing you up, you added, “actually, can I have a chocolate chip muffin as well?”

“Absolutely!” she chirped, “they’re a house specialty. You’re gonna love it.”

After giving her four whole dollars (you were baffled by the fact a cup of coffee and a muffin only cost you four dollars) the woman behind the counter gave you the muffin on a plate and a cup of coffee that was as big as your hand and sent you on your way. You mulled near the register for a moment, trying to find somewhere to sit. There was a guy with his hair pulled up in a messy bun not far from the counter with headphones in, and then a couple sitting in the corner near a bookshelf stocked with books. You found a prime seat by the window: an oversized and overstuffed armchair with a small table next to it. After unloading your drink and muffin on the table, you threw your bag to the ground, dug around for a minute until you found your book, and made yourself comfortable.

You’d definitely struck gold with this coffee shop; you were sure as soon as you took the first sip of coffee. The deal had been sealed for sure with the first bite of the chocolate chip muffin that, to your surprise, was still warm. After wiping the melted chocolate off your face, you dove back into your book. You absentmindedly went for more muffin and more coffee as you read. Every once in awhile, you’d look up to grab your cup of coffee without spilling it, and see that the guy with the bun and the headphones was looking at you. As soon as you caught his eye, he’d look away quickly.

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself after the third time bun-man looked quickly away from you. You wiped your face again, trying to figure out if maybe there was still chocolate from the muffin on your face.

After the fifth time, after you were you were it wasn’t the muffin because there wasn’t any left for you to get on your face, you decided to go ask what his problem was. Maybe it was the fact you’d stared at each other for a good ten seconds longer than any other time you’d caught bun-man staring at you but that time was what broke the camel’s back.

“Hey,” you started slowly, approaching his table. As you got to it, he looked up, pulling an earbud out of his ear. You wrapped your hand around the chair in front of you, looking down at him. “Should I be flattered you keep staring at me?” you asked. “Like, do I have something on my face or…” you trailed off, waiting for him to supply you with an answer.

“Uhh…” he drew out, looking up at you, back down to his book in front of him and then back. Your brows knitted together as you watched him, still waiting for a proper response.

“Jon sits and sketches the pretty people who come in,” the girl behind the counter supplies, leaning her elbows on the counter, watching the scene before her with some amusement. “Certainly easier for him than talking to them.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Jon, looking over to the counter. “I’m just fine at talking to people.”

“Oh yeah,” counter girl snorted. “You’re being real smooth right now.”

“Shut up,” he said, chuckling nervously. He turned to you and added, “I’m usually better at explaining it but I also usually see people coming. You took me by surprise.”

“My bad,” you told him, pulling the chair you were holding onto out and sinking into it. “So, do I get to see these drawings?”

“I…guess?” Jon answered, flipping back in his book a few pages. “They’re rough sketches. Not great,” he added before sliding the book towards you. You looked down at the pages and if those were rough sketches, you’d pay good money to see what a real drawing from him. You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen yourself look so good as you looked on paper. You flipped through the pages, seeing different angles of your face, wondering if you could manage to get your hair just that perfect kind of messy that the drawing you achieved.

“These are…” you trailed off, flipping the page to see a full page sketch of you curled up in an armchair, reading a book.

“Creepy?” supplied Jon, chuckling.

“I was going to say really good,” you told him, “Can I pay you for a copy of this one?” you added, holding up his book to show him the sketch you were talking about. He looked confused for a second.

“You can just have it,” Jon informed. “You really don’t to pay me. Especially since I kind of just drew you without giving you a heads up.”

“It’s only because you think I’m pretty,” you joked. “I think I still have to pay you.” He smiled, shaking his head.

“Not the only reason,” he sighed. “I…uh was mulling over how to go over and talk to you,” he explained. “Drawing helps me clear my head and think a little bit better.” You couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” you told him. “You let me have the drawing and I’ll buy you another cup of coffee and we can skip the awkward approach. To be fair, we’ve already had it. And it could have been worse.”

“It definitely could have,” he agreed, laughing. “So much worse.”

“Right, so let me go get our coffees,” you told him, standing up. “I’ll be right back.” As you went to go grab your stuff from where you were sitting, Jon cleared his throat. You stopped, turning back to see him biting his lip.

“Not to circle back around to awkward,” said Jon, “but what is your name?” You laughed, rolling your eyes.

“Sorry, I suck at meeting new people,” you told him. “I’m [Y/N].”

“[Y/N],” he repeated, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you said honestly. “Also, Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you like your coffee?”


End file.
